Ratio: A Leopold Blake Thriller (A Private Investigator Series of Crime and Suspense Thrillers)

by Nick Stephenson

  “You’ve already met Georgie. He was the one that gave you the love tickle across the cheek.” Georgie was thin, almost underfed, but worked efficiently. “Now, let me introduce my other partner, Bill Clinton.”

  Clinton was the one holding the pistol to the back of her head, the largest of the group. “Hey ya,” was all he said.

  Without watching, she felt her legs get tied by Georgie, only keeping her glaring attention on the man in charge. The plastic ties were loose enough to walk, but only at a shuffle.

  “My name is Reagan,” the man in charge told her, picking at his Ronald Reagan Halloween mask. Broad shouldered and thick through the middle, he was also the shortest of the three. June responded only by looking at the man with as much derision as she could muster.

  She tried to figure out the relationships between the three of them. It was obvious they were hiding their identities, each wearing not only the masks but odd-fitting and colorful clothes. Whatever they were up to, they would surely change their clothes at the end and get rid of the masks. Clinton and George needed instructions from Reagan, as though they had only discussed the job but had not rehearsed it. Maybe that meant they knew each other previously, and Reagan had always been in charge. Right at that particular moment, she couldn’t clear her mind well enough to think how she could use it to her advantage. All she could figure was that their plan included leaving her and the kids alive at the end. Otherwise, why bother with masks?

  “No questions?” Reagan asked her.

  June wasn’t going to play the man’s game by asking the obvious. It was best to keep all of them off kilter. She glanced over at the girls on the couch, intently watching her. Their whimpers had turned to wet faces, but at least they were quiet. “Would it be okay if the kids watch TV?”

  “If it keeps them quiet.”

  She told the girls what channel to watch and to remain quiet. One of them grabbed the remote and flicked on the flat screen, changing to the prescribed channel. They glanced a few times at June before settling their attention on the TV.

  Ankles secured and arms tied to her waist, she was no longer a threat to the men, and she knew it. As they each pocketed their guns, Reagan stepped closer to face her.

  “I’ll save you the trouble of asking what’s going on here. We know who you are, and who your sister is. And those brats belong to your sister.”

  Her plan had worked, of forcing information out of him, only by out-waiting him.

  “They’re not brats.”

  Unblinkingly ready to take another hit, June didn’t flinch when Georgie raised his hand to her again. She kept her eyes locked into Reagan’s.

  “Georgie…” Ronald shook his head to wave him off. “Take a seat, buddy. You too, Clinton.”

  They both took a seat at the dining table as commanded. Reagan smiled back at June. She had won a small battle of wits, and in the process learned they were chummy enough to use ‘buddy’.

  “Okay, they’re not brats. Those kids belong to your sister, and that’s why we’re here today.”

  “So?”

  “We want money, and your sister has plenty. We have her kids, and their mommy will want them back. Pretty easy to figure out.”

  “So, this is a kidnapping?”

  “Not at all. Those little dickens can walk out of the house any time they want. So can you for that matter.”

  “And get bullets in our heads?” June shook her head. She had to approach everything she said very carefully. But patience had never been her strong suit. “What do you expect me to do all tied up like this, go to an ATM for some cash?”

  Reagan took a seat in an easy chair and slouched down into the soft cushions. The other two chuckled. “We ain’t doin’ this for no five hundred bucks. We know she has a whole lot more’n that tucked away at home.”

  “Are you guys idiots? If you want more than that, she’ll have to go to a bank, and this is a weekend. You really expect to keep us here until Monday morning?”

  “Why not?” Clinton asked, his smile full of yellow teeth.

  She kept looking at Reagan as though answering him. “Well, because people need to be fed, go to the bathroom, sleep, those sorts of things. And the way things sit right now, you’ve made it pretty damn difficult for me to cooperate.”

  Reagan sighed and pulled a pack of smokes out of his shirt pocket.

  “No smoking in the house,” June said to him.

  He snorted a laugh. “I’m supposed to go out in the back and smoke?” he asked with a note of incredulity to his voice.

  “No smoking out there either.”

  She tried staring him down again but lost the battle when he lit a cigarette. He exhaled a long stream of gray smoke in her direction, smoke seeping out the eye, ear, and nose holes of the mask, a devilish appearance. “Anyway, we know where she lives and we know she has a wall safe there. We know an armored truck made a delivery of cash. And a wealthy woman like her is gonna have plenty of cash on hand, just for times like this.”

  “Really? How did you find out she has a wall safe? Because she’s never said a thing about it to me. Seems odd that strangers would know that but not her own sister.”

  “Cause we’ve been figuring out a way of gettin’ money from her, you haven’t. You and me, we pay attention to different things, and learn different stuff. You know what the brats like to eat, and I know she has money in the house.”

  “And you think I have the combination to the safe?”

  “No. You just made it sound like you don’t. Which means we need to get it from her.” He grinned at her. “And we ain’t waitin’ till she gets back here. We want the combination to the safe, and the code that will get us past the alarm system at the house. Plus, we want the pass from your car that will get us past the guard at the front gate to the neighborhood.”

  “You don’t want much, do you?” June fidgeted uncomfortably in her tight plastic restraints. “Anything else? A helicopter to take you to a yacht out at sea for your get-away?”

  “Not a bad idea. But we already have that all worked out.”

  June watched the twins watching the television, a colorful and busy children’s show she had never seen before. They had settled down and were more interested in the show than what was going on around them. Both had at least one finger in their mouth. Satisfied there was a measure of control in the house, at least over emotions, she looked back at the man in the easy chair.

  “How do you know I’m going to cooperate?”

  Silently, Reagan left his chair and went to the couch where the girls were sitting. Holding the cigarette with his front teeth, he pushed the girls’ shoulders together, and then their heads. They looked startled to be touched from behind and began whimpering again.

  “Hey! Leave them alone!” June struggled against the plastic ties.

  He pulled the gun from his jacket pocket and shoved the muzzle up against the side of a girl’s head. He slid the gun around in her hair until it settled onto a point just over her ear.

  Reagan looked back at June. “This is how we get you to cooperate.”

  Hot tears welled up in June’s eyes hearing the girls whimpering start up again.

  “Sit still, girls, and be quiet,” June warned them. “Sit still or auntie will be very angry with you.” She looked again at the gun in the man’s hand, and then back at his face. “Do that and you have no leverage at all. It would be a one way trip to the gas chamber.”

  “Want to try out your theory?” the man asked, smoke curling up from the cigarette locked between his teeth. “So far we’ve left no evidence, no prints or fibers anywhere in the house. Two bullets would silence the three of you forever. Then we’d simply walk out the front door happier than a gang of missionaries.”

  June thought about the situation. Amy had mentioned she was spending the weekend at home, and there was no way she would send these men to her house if Amy was home. The situation was bad enough already; she wasn’t going to let it get worse.

  �
�But I don’t know the combination to her safe. I didn’t even know she had a safe until you told me!”

  “Look, idiot. There’s this new technology called cell phones. You’re going to call her and get the combination. Right now.”

  “But…”

  She watched as he flicked the safety off his pistol, making the gun ready to be fired.

  “Fine.”

  He left the gun aimed where it was. “This is how it works. We’ll use your phone. Clinton will dial the number and hold the phone up to your ear. You talk nice and calm. No chitchat, no girl talk. No clever little messages. Got it?”

  June nodded her head.

  “You’ll calmly explain the situation to her, about how there is a gun held to the heads of her precious little miracles, but all we want is the money from the safe. Once we get that, we go away and none of you ever sees us again.”

  “But what if…”

  “No what ifs.” He smiled. “If she hears a gunshot, she’ll know we’re for real.”

  June stared back. Her soul wanted to cry, but her mind won that fight. Crying could be done later. Right then she needed to keep a clear mind.

  “If she hears a gunshot, she’ll have no reason to give you the combination.”

  “We’ll still have you to negotiate with.”

  “All you want is the combination to the safe?”

  “It’s a complex safe. There’s an electronic password that needs to be put in, plus a dial combination, to get the safe open. You’ll get both, repeat them out loud so I can hear. Any questions?”

  She nodded. “How’d you learn all that?”

  “Not your problem, is it, Auntie?”

  “Where’s your phone?” Georgie asked after he stood up from the dinner table.

  “My purse, on the desk.”

  George dumped the contents of June’s purse on the desk and grabbed her smart phone out of the mess. He began scrolling through numbers looking for the right one.

  “How do you have her listed?” he asked when he got to her side.

  June kept her eyes on Reagan, and on the pistol held against Koemi’s head. He gave June a look as though she shouldn’t stall.

  “Sis.”

  George kept scrolling.

  “Just make sure she understands exactly what we want. No fuss, no long explanations. She needs to know we’re serious.”

  Reagan nodded his head at Clinton, who then went to June’s side. She was still in the middle of the living room, wrists and ankles restrained. Clinton pulled out his pistol and set the muzzle against her head, in the exact same point Reagan’s gun was aimed at Koemi’s head, just above her ear.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Georgie found the number labeled ‘sis’ and pressed call. He held the phone out in front of June, where they could hear it ringing. For the first time since being tied up, she broke eye contact with Reagan and stared down at the phone.

  “Don’t answer, Sis…just don’t answer,” June begged quietly, staring down at it.

  She listened to it ring, then another ring, and then again. June listened as it rang a seventh, an eighth, a tenth time. No answer, not even voice mail.

  “She’s not answering,” June said, looking at Reagan again. “She’s too busy.”

  “Georgie, did you dial the right number?” Reagan asked impatiently.

  He looked at the screen. “It’s says sis on it.”

  June could see sweat forming on Reagan’s neck below the edge of the mask, running down into his shirt. Part of it was the rubber mask over his head, and maybe part was his nerves. She needed to apply more pressure to force him into a mistake.

  “If you take off the masks, you won’t be so hot,” she told them. “It would be easier for you to smoke your cigarettes too.”

  “And risk going back to prison, because you could identify us? Forget that,” Clinton said.

  “Shut your hole!” shouted Reagan.

  He answered what June had been thinking, that they knew each other before, and in prison. She needed to tread lightly, but still apply pressure.

  “Who helped you with all this?” she asked. “There is no way you could’ve got that much information about her without help, especially about the safe. Or how you knew the kids would be here today.”

  “Shut up.” Reagan glanced down at the phone. “Georgie, you sure you dialed the right number?”

  “Yeah, but…”

  “But nothing. Her name is Amy. Look at all the ‘A’ names. Then look for mommy or something like that. She might have it hidden in there.”

  “Auntie?” one of the girls mewed softly. “Mommy has…”

  “Quiet, Koemi!” June said sharply.

  “But mommy…”

  “Koemi! Quiet, now!” June had to think how she could keep her niece quiet from drawing attention to herself. All she could think of was a threat. “Keep quiet or there’s no ice cream later!”

  June set her eyes on Reagan, ignoring Georgie working with the phone in front of her and Clinton at her side. Mostly, she did her best to ignore the hard metal pistol muzzle pressed against her nieces’ heads. But the imagery of a bullet spiraling down the muzzle before crashing through two young skulls dominated her mind anyway. Nerves were getting stretched thin.

  Scrolling through numbers one at a time for several minutes, Georgie said, “There’s nothing here with her name.”

  “Try the first one again.”

  Georgie found ‘sis’ and dialed.

  June stared down at the phone as it rang a dozen more times.

  “She went out of town for the weekend,” June lied. She knew if the men found out Amy was home right then, they might go straight there for their second home invasion of the day. But she was as confused as they were why Amy wasn’t answering her calls. It wasn’t like her sister to pass on answering a call from her, especially if the kids were staying with her. “She probably turned her phone off.”

  “Why isn’t it going to voice mail?” Reagan asked.

  “I have no idea. Maybe she saw my number and just doesn’t want to talk to me?” June asked. “I mean, there are more interesting people to talk to than me.”

  Reagan was obviously pissed that the call hadn’t gone though. His neck had broken into a full sweat and he tugged at the edges of the rubber mask. He dropped his cigarette to the hardwood floor and stepped his toe on it. “If you’re screwing with us…”

  “What? What can I be doing? I’m tied up with a gun to my head, you have my phone, George found the number and called. What could I possibly be doing?”

  That’s when she remembered the last thing Amy said to her, that she had got a new phone and number, and that she wrote it on a slip of paper at the desk. Amy even mentioned that both girls already had it memorized. The number George had found under ‘sis’ was the old number, and June hadn’t taken the time yet to correct it. The correct number in the phone was labeled only as ‘new’.

  Mostly she was ambivalent if she wanted to help the three men with the sudden recall, or just let them flounder for a while. If they got frustrated enough, there was the chance they would just give up and leave. She couldn’t allow them to go to Amy’s house when she was there, but she was also putting her nieces at risk by not divulging the new phone number. Either way, she had the growing dread deep inside that the afternoon was going to end poorly.

  Reagan tapped one of the girls’ heads with the muzzle of his gun. “Hey brat, what’s your mother’s name?”

  “Hey! Leave her alone!” June shouted.

  Reagan aimed the gun at June for a moment. “You were saying?” He turned the gun back to Koemi’s head. “I asked you, what’s your mother’s name?”

  “Mommy…” the girl mewed softly.

  Reagan sighed. “Georgie, look for mommy in the phone.”

  “Auntie…” one of the girls began to say.

  “Be quiet, please, Ruka.”

  The little girl turned her head a bit to look in June’s direction. “But mommy has�
��”

  “You’re making me very angry, Ruka!” June said, barely holding her temper.

  “Not to interrupt the soap opera, but could the two of you shut the hell up?” Reagan said. His gun hand shook, the one that held the pistol to the side of the girls’ heads.

  June turned her sights back on him. “Don’t even think of hurting them,” she said with as much control as she could muster.

  Both girls burst into tears.

  Reagan shoved the butt of his pistol into a girl’s head, nudging it to the side.

  “God damn you…” June muttered.

  She got a backhand across her face from Clinton.

  “I told you to shut up!” bellowed Reagan. “I won’t put up with this hysterical female shit!”

  Georgie had his gun in his hand again, aimed then at June’s chest from point blank range, the phone call forgotten. He began to grunt, stress noise.

  They all remained that way for some time, the girls whimpering, Reagan’s gun hand shaking, Clinton pressing his pistol against June’s head, Georgie grunting, and June fighting swirling numbness in her mind. She could taste blood in her mouth from being backhanded by Clinton.

  Maybe because of the stress, Reagan’s voice was falling into a southern drawl. And the way he called the man in the George Bush mask Georgie, June figured that might be his real first name. Just as she figured, the men were beginning to crack. She was getting some power back from them.

  She had to continue to push.

  After a couple more minutes of the tense standoff, Reagan lifted his pistol away from Koemi’s head, put the safety on, and stowed it in his jacket. He nodded to the other two men and they slowly put their guns away.

  “Okay.” He pronounced his words carefully, but his voice warbled with cracked nerves. “Now that everyone has their heads out of their butts, we’re all gonna start playin’ nice again. Everything is going to be just fine.”

  June knew she had to distract the intruders from trying to call Amy again, and to keep Georgie from snooping through her phone numbers too closely. It would only be a matter of time before he found the heading called ‘new’ and figured it belonged to Amy. Or for one of the girls to let it slip that they knew the number by heart. If she let on with the right number then, they’d never believe she only just remembered it. She also needed to find a way to distract the girls from the drama that was unfolding in front of them.